


Breaths and Heartbeats

by RedLaces



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 06:30:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3371321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLaces/pseuds/RedLaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking at it now, it all seemed so simple, we were lying on your couch ,i remember, you took a polaroid of us, and we discovered, the rest of the world was black and white, and we were in screaming colour</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaths and Heartbeats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Theperksofbeingabooknerd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theperksofbeingabooknerd/gifts).



“I didn’t even know you had this.” John examined the device with a kind of wonder mixed with not-too-subtle disgust.

Hero tangled her arms together, shrugging. “I wasn’t aware you had an alphabetised list of my possessions?”

John looked up, cocking his head to the side. “Who said anything about alphabetized?”

They laughed, the noise coming sharply and leaving just the same. In a matter of seconds trailed by a familiar silence; not quite comfortable, not quite awkward.

“No, I just meant-” He turned it over and looked through the viewfinder, his mouth in a decided line. “This isn’t something I ever expected you to own. Was it a gift?”

Hero mulled, watching the clock behind his head tick from 10:00 to 10:01. “Why don’t you think it’s something I’d own?” Hero turned it back on John, who looked up and was at a loss for words. Silence. Again.

 

On Valentine’s Day John kissed Hero. Out of the blue, purely because it was Valentine’s Day. John’s plans had fallen through at around 3am leaving him stranded two streets from Hero’s place with a shopping trolley, three apples and six-pack of the cheapest beer they sold at the local bottle-o. So he’d called her.

Well, no. He’d called her mum, thinking that Esther would just give him a lift to his place. But no, apparently his parents had gotten stuck in the city due to storm damage, and it was just easier for them to stay in a motel. Neither Esther or Louise were ever going to let him sleep in his house alone, and since Pedro was already sleeping over at Balthazar’s it was just easier on everyone if he crashed at the Dukes’ place.

_“So, three apples, a six-pack and a trolley?”_

_“Yup.”_

_“You’re not gonna try and-”_

_“Nah, whatever you think of will be better than the truth.”_

Hero’s date had turned out to be a real dick, so she’d left early. He was a set up from Meg, but it was clear that it was more of a ‘don’t spend the day alone’ than a ‘I think you guys would be good together’ kind of set up. So she’d just put a fifty dollar note on the table, more than covering the entrees they’d both ordered

_“Wow, that takes balls.”_

_“No, it doesn’t.”_

_“Sorry, ‘balls’ isn’t the right turn of phrase. It takes ‘nerve’”_

_“No. Thank you for the feminist improvements, but no. All it takes is the ability to know what’s worth your time and what’s not.”_

_“Like I said, nerve.”_

They had sat on the floor of her bedroom, John in the centre and Hero with her back resting against the frame of her bed. John’s gangly limbs had folded into a cross-legged position centering on a warm cup of hot chocolate. He’d come into the room just to pick up a pillow, but found himself in a warm conversation almost immediately. Hero’s legs stretched across the abyss between them, her blue-socked feet stopping inches before his knees. They talk mindlessly for what seemed like roughly twenty minutes but turned out to drag their tired consciousnesses into the early morning. Louise popped her head in at 2am, telling them it was time to sleep. She floated down the hall to her room, and they heard the door squeak close. John stood up, and with the momentum found himself standing closer to Hero than he’d planned to. From there it was his choice. To say it was a wordless confession of a long-brewing paramore between two intertwined souls, or a desperate plea for a break from the depression and anxiety of singlehood would be overcomplicating it.

Turning it into some kind of movie moment, cut together to run smoothly. It wasn’t.

But it had started something.

He kissed her.

He pulled back.

Pause.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, John.” She’d whispered.

He stood up, and she leaned back on the side of the

“Shit.” He’d replied in the same tone, which made Hero laugh. Then they were both laughing. Laughing at each other laughing, laughing at how long they’d been laughing, laughing at what he’d just done, laughing what they’d done.

“Oh god,” Hero rubbed her face in mock-exasperation. She turned “What have you done?”

“I-” John scratched the back of his head and sighed. “I don’t know.”

Hero stood up and handed him the pillow he’d originally come into the room. “Let’s work it out tomorrow, I’m tired.”

He nodded, staring at her for a little too long walking backwards out the door. Hero didn’t hesitate to shut it, breathing out in relief and flinging herself onto her bed, falling to sleep without another thought.

 

That was three months ago. They still hadn’t worked it out. John looked through the viewfinder and pressed down with his first finger and a clicking sound echoed through the room. A white piece of glossy paper slided slowly through the slit at the bottom, and he collected it in his hand.

“You’ve got to shake it.” Hero made the movement with her hand.

“Why?”

She paused. “Dunno, just do, it brings the colour out.”

“Sure it does.”

“Give it here.” She pushed forward and fell on top of him, grabbing the picture without too much resistance. With her hands in the air shaking the photo she remembered she was lying on top of him.

The silence again.

“Hero?” John whispered, and she looked at him.

“Uh, yeah?” She tried.

“You’re kneeing my hip.”

“Oh! Sorry,” She laughed, trying to move.

“Nope,” He grimaced, “That’s worse, here, do you mind?” He said, his hands hovering over her hips.

“Uh, nope.” She said, training her gaze on the photo as the silhouette of her head came into focus.

John gently guided her to flip over, and immediately it became clear where she fit. She shuffled down a small bit, her head coming to rest in the crook of his neck.

“Much better,” He grinned, tilting his head to rest his cheek on her hair, enjoying the fragrance that reached his nose.

“Hmm, definitely.” She held the photo up. “Not my best.”

“Are you kidding? It’s beautiful.”

They talk mindlessly for twenty minutes before they ran out of words, communicating in heartbeats and breath, until they slowed and fell asleep.


End file.
